Just Exactly Where I Want To Be
by GlassParade
Summary: A one-shot "Alluded Scene" from the Miss Holliday Goes To Dalton Universe: Kurt and Blaine's weekend picnic.


**Just Exactly Where I Want To Be**

_This is what I would call an "alluded" rather than a "deleted" scene from the Miss Holliday Goes To Dalton universe. In the chapter "Being Somebody Else," Blaine flashes back to his weekend with Kurt while he is talking to Rachel. I wanted to include this scene, but it would have made an already large chapter even bigger, and I felt it didn't fit within the larger planned narrative at any rate for a few reasons._

_But I did want to write the scene, so I've made it as standalone as possible - you don't have to read MHGTD to appreciate the Klaine. :) Not that I mind anyone reading what is after all my flagship story! _

It was the silence that had woken Blaine up more than anything; he'd spent several weekends on the Hummel-Hudson couch and was always jostled awake by Finn when Kurt's stepbrother wanted to watch TV.

But this Saturday he opened his eyes without having his feet and knees nudged insistently by over six feet of hulking teenager. He just _woke up_, which had him on edge already because of the incongruity of it, so when the first thing he saw was Kurt kneeling by the couch, smiling brightly and almost nose to nose with him, he couldn't help but yelp in shock and bound right off the sofa. He ended up standing by the door to the kitchen and telling himself that he was _fine_ and it was _okay_ he didn't need that ten years of life anyway and _please _chill with the adrenaline.

Kurt had leaped backwards himself and was standing close to the stairs.

"Don't _do _that," they gasped at each other in stereo, and then immediately collapsed with laughter for several minutes.

"I'm sorry," Kurt wheezed as they started to come down from their mutual hysteria, wiping a tear from his eye. "I should have..."

"Woken me up like a normal person would, by shaking me a little instead of staring at me?" Blaine's tone was light, now that he was calming down, and he found it funny enough to stick his tongue out childishly at his boyfriend, who returned the gesture with a raspberry.

"Something like that. It's just..." Kurt put on a comical leer and an exaggeratedly gruff voice. "I like watching you sleep."

Blaine groaned. "Ew. Please. What have I told you about your awful Edward Cullen impression? Or Twilight references in general?"

"Oh, come on. Your reactions are too funny for me to possibly be expected to refrain." The taller boy in the pale blue pajamas all but skipped across the room and pulled Blaine over to the couch with him. "I do, though. I mean, I didn't know it until today, because I've never had the chance to until now, but it turns out I do. It's the only time I've ever seen you fully relaxed."

"Oh." Blaine considered this as he curled up against Kurt. He was pretty sure he liked it. "Well, now that you've essentially let me know that you'll probably be doing it from now on, I'll try not to jump and scream next time."

"That would be appreciated." Kurt absently twined his slender fingers through the hair at the nape of Blaine's neck, causing the darker haired teen to drop his head and snuggle closer as the caressing made him sleepy all over again. They stayed that way for several minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet. Until Blaine noticed that there _was _peace and quiet.

"Hey," he mumbled drowsily. "Where'd everyone go?"

"Away." Kurt's voice was amused. "Dad and Carole are at a car show in Columbus all day, bless her patient heart - I think she bargained to get a really nice dinner date out of it. And Finn's with Quinn doing...I don't know. Mysterious Prom Royalty Campaigning things, I didn't want to ask because he looked ready to bite someone's head off."

Blaine lifted his head and blinked, a bleary smile spreading across his face. "So we have the house to ourselves?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Yay." He wound his arms around Kurt and tried to tug him closer, but found himself thwarted as the other boy bounced up to his feet, causing Blaine to flop over into the couch cushions at the abrupt lack of support.

"I have so many _plans_."

Blaine pushed himself up to a seated position with a frown. "I liked the snuggling thing. Is that not one of the plans? I'd like to put forth a motion that it be included in the plans."

"You sound like Wes. Can we not bring Parliamentary Procedure into our couple time?"

The question caused a number of interesting images to amble pleasantly through Blaine's brain. He vowed to examine them more closely and with Kurt's help at a later date.

Though he suddenly had some notions clarified about Wes' gavel fetish. Those, he would definitely prefer to just have excised from his memory.

"Blaine. Wake up." Kurt appeared in front of him again, snapping his fingers. "We have plans. You'll like them, I promise. Now go get showered and dressed and meet me in the kitchen."

* * *

><p>When Blaine wandered back down into the kitchen thirty minutes later, Kurt was a hummingbird blur of motion in the kitchen as he packed sandwiches, fruit, cut vegetables and a thermos of lemonade into a gingham lined picnic basket.<p>

He hadn't even known they still made actual picnic baskets. It was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.

"Not that I mind," he commented as he slipped through the swinging door silently, biting back a chuckle at Kurt's surprised jump and squeal, "because I think you look great in them, but how come I had to get dressed and you get to still be in your pajamas?"

"Someone had to prepare the picnic," Kurt huffed, "and since it was my idea, I thought it should be me. Stop that." He swatted Blaine's hands away from the lid of the basket when he tried to peek.

"Where are we picnicking?" Blaine was genuinely interested and slightly worried. Lima wasn't any more a bastion of gay tolerance than his hometown had been, and picnics had a romantic air that he'd want to explore. He wouldn't be comfortable doing so at a local park, but Kurt might be in one of his 'push the boundaries' moods and Blaine often found it difficult to naysay him when he was.

"I thought...the backyard?" Kurt's eyes were wide and hopeful. "It's such a pretty day out, and we have a privacy fence, and the house to ourselves and we'd hear anyone coming back and..." He cut off in surprise when Blaine covered his mouth with a kiss.

"I love it. It's perfect. You're perfect," Blaine pulled back and smiled at his very adorable boyfriend. "But you should dress, too. Do you want me to do anything?"

"Just put that umbrella up and lay this quilt down under it. Pick a nice spot. We'll be under there for a while." The answering smile on Kurt's face was blissful and beautiful as he bounced off to get himself ready to face the day, which process Blaine was sure would take an hour at minimum but he couldn't find it in his heart to begrudge it, given the stunning results. He picked up the green and white golf umbrella and the indicated quilt and took himself off to tend to his own errand.

It really was a pretty day, he noted as he opened the umbrella up. Blue skies stretched for miles in all directions, uninterrupted by clouds. The sun gleamed overhead, but it wasn't sweltering; he didn't even break a sweat wrestling the enormous umbrella into the ground. Spreading the quilt out, he headed back inside just long enough to grab the short story anthology he'd been assigned for English - it was too nice out for him to stay inside waiting for Kurt.

Forty-five minutes later, he was still trying to remind himself that 'The Lottery' was a social commentary and was _meant _to be that screwed up when the thump of boots on the back porch made him look up and smile at the sight of Kurt traipsing across the lawn towards him, picnic basket slung over one arm.

Of course Kurt had chosen shades of gray for his outfit so as to not clash with the umbrella and the quilt.

"Forty-five minutes, Mr. Hummel. I'm impressed."

"Shush. I managed to knock out a few steps of my morning routine before I came down to wake you up." A look of horror crossed his face. "Wait, have you been out here for forty-five minutes without sunscreen?"

Blaine shrugged. "Well, yeah, I mean, I was under the umbrella so I figured - "

"No! Unacceptable. Sit up and give me your face."

"My face? But, Kurt - " He struggled upright. "I can't give you my face. I like my face. On me. And your face on you. My face wouldn't look so great on you."

"Ha. Ha. You're a regular Bob Hope. See how I laugh." Kurt was patently unamused as he dug an orange tube out of the picnic basket. "Sit still and close your eyes."

Blaine obeyed, trying not to start at the electric touch of the other boy's fingers on his cheeks as they gently massaged a cool, creamy substance that smelled of orange blossoms into his skin. "Mm. What's this?"

"Ole Henrickson," Kurt replied, switching his focus to Blaine's forehead. "SPF 50."

"Ah." He felt like a kitten whose ears were getting a good rubbing, all purring and noodly. "Smells nice."

"More importantly, it protects your skin." A thumb brushed across his chin and jawline. "I like your skin. Your face. I'd like you to take better care of it." With a swipe of his finger, Kurt deposited a blob of the lotion onto Blaine's nose. "There. Rub that last bit in, please."

He did so, wiping his hands together afterward to disperse the last of the cream. As the final traces sank into his skin, he heard his stomach growl and he froze, mortified by this reminder that he hadn't gotten to eat breakfast yet.

Bodies. They made so many _embarrassing_ noises.

Kurt looked horrified too, but not at Blaine – the look on his face clearly said, _Oh my God I made my house guest starve waiting for me to pull myself away from the mirror _and Blaine wanted to explain that it was really okay, he'd forgotten too, except that it was rude to talk with your mouth full and Kurt had just shoved half an egg salad sandwich between his lips.

"I'm sorry, Blaine, I'm so sorry, that was so rude of me and Carole would _kill _me if she knew and I'm really sorry I made you wait for me - "

"Kurt," Blaine interjected, although around the mouthful of food it was more like "Kurfd." He placed a hand over his boyfriend's mouth as he finished chewing and swallowed. "It's okay. If I'd been really bothered, I'd have noticed earlier. And I promise I won't say a word to Carole that indicates you have less than perfect manners. You just have to stop freaking out. Can I take my hand away and you'll chill out now?" Kurt's eyes were wide and blue-green over his hand as he nodded. Blaine pulled the hand away and replaced it with his lips.

"Mmmmm," The pleased hum that Kurt emitted just before he pulled away made Blaine weak in the knees. "You know, kissing me into submission is probably not the best way to get me to _stop_ freaking out. It just makes me want to plot future freakouts."

"Isn't it easier just to kiss me when you want it?" Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Why manufacture drama?"

"I think it's New Directions," Kurt mused as he slipped on a pair of enormous black sunglasses. "I'm not sure I know how to do anything without drama anymore. If I ever did."

"Ah." Their favorite companionable silence stretched between them as they worked their way through the contents of the picnic basket, Blaine marveling at the quantity and variety of the food. "Were you planning on both of us eating all of this?"

Kurt sat back, hands propped behind him, sunglasses hiding his chameleon eyes. "Not really. I figured Finn would get through whatever we didn't. I'll go put everything away in a second."

"Make that five minutes." Blaine lunged over and tackled Kurt to the ground, pinning him. "Hi there."

"Well, hello there, Blaine Warbler." Kurt squinted as his sunglasses were plucked off and tossed aside. "Those are Dolce and Gabbana, Blaine! Have some respect!"

"They're fine, Kurt." The darker haired boy dipped his head and nipped the soft skin of Kurt's throat. "Do you actually care right now?"

"Er..." Kurt squirmed involuntarily beneath Blaine, making him grin. "...maybe a little?"

"And now?" He traced a long lick of his tongue up Kurt's jugular.

"Well...I..."

"What about now?" Blaine was back up over Kurt now and uttered that sentence around the kisses he was pressing to his boyfriend's marvelous mobile mouth.

"It...my..."

Blaine removed his hands from where they'd been pinning Kurt's wrists to the quilt and relocated them to his boyfriend's waist, wiggling his fingers in an experimental tickle. "Okay, so what about now?"

Kurt froze. "You wouldn't."

"You couldn't get your mind off your sunglasses while I was _kissing you_, Kurt. I assure you that I would." Grinning, he twitched his fingers again and was rewarded with indignant meeping from the boy below. "Making _hilarious_ noises like that is severely unlikely to stop me."

"Blaine...please. I can't stand tickling."

And Blaine couldn't stand the beseeching look in Kurt's eyes. Smiling, he sat up and pulled Kurt up after him. "You win. I can't deny you anything."

"Thank you." The fashion conscious teenager tugged at his shirt cuffs before rising fluidly to his feet. "Let me put the leftovers away and then I'll come back out and you can resume what you were doing before you so rudely threatened to tickle me."

"Whatever, you liked it. _Let you get your hands on me in my skintight jeans..._" Blaine sang lazily, raising his eyebrows in a mock lascivious fashion. This earned him a dirty look from Kurt that was somehow fond at the same time. As the other boy disappeared into the house, Blaine lay back down on the quilt, squinting up at the green and white wedges of the umbrella and remembering a line from 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.'

_I could die right now, Clem. I'm just...happy. I've never felt that before. I'm just exactly where I want to be._

Sure, the movie didn't have the happiest ending in the world, but that moment was one Blaine could relate to. He was happier than he'd been in days. Right here, time and the rest of the world almost didn't exist - everything was sun and shade and the smell of expensive sunscreen and the feel of a gorgeous boy in his arms. No crazy school antics or appeals boards to worry about. Just here, just now, just right.

Kurt reappeared, sans basket, and slipped back down beside him. "Here I am again."

"Welcome back." They lay side by side, heads and shoulders and hips and legs pressed together, enjoying the moment and the warmth of the sun. "Hey, Kurt?"

"Yes, Blaine?"

"It's too bad you wore those Docs," Blaine remarked casually as he threaded his fingers together behind his head. "It's so hard to play footsie with someone whose footwear goes up almost to his knees."

When Kurt immediately sat up and began frantically tearing at his bootlaces, Blaine laughed and laughed and thought he'd never want to be anywhere else on earth but at this beautiful, ridiculous boy's side.


End file.
